


you're wild when you wait

by kuro49



Series: thirty days of writing [25]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Drabble, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:11:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4583736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaby is a chop shop girl, Illya looks like he makes love instead of fucks, and Napolean just looks like he can and will call it anything to get them both into bed with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're wild when you wait

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: wildness on the loose. 
> 
> just. so. much. ot3. feeeeeels.

Gaby is a chop shop girl, Illya looks like he makes love instead of fucks, and Napolean just looks like he can and _will_ call it anything to get them both into bed with him.

If this doesn’t end explosive, wrecked sheets and favourite suits ruined beyond a perfect fit, she figures they are doing something very wrong.

“Really.”

Gaby steps out of the bathroom, hair still dripping from the ends, and there is the sight of the two of them. Still dressed to the nines, save for a jacket or two but what she raises her eyebrow to is the sight of Solo already on his knees, Kuryakin with a hand in that hair.

“You two could not have waited?”

The minute change in Illya’s expression makes up for the way Napoleon is shrugging. But Gaby isn’t so easily satisfied with just that. They might not be very apologetic when they pull her between them but they are sincere when they have her on her toes between the hard press of their bodies. One is quicker than the other to tug her towel off to pool at their feet.

There is a thrill to the slide of their nice suits against her bare skin.

But she doesn’t tell them that.

Just lets Napoleon dip his head to kiss her shoulder as she winds her arms around Illya’s neck to pull herself up against his entire body. He takes the rest of her weight with ease, kissing her full on the mouth, then her neck before tracking a trail to her collarbones. Napoleon might be the one with the smart mouth but Illya really knows how to make use of his tongue, and the soft content sigh she lets escaped only brings out the constant competition in them.

She isn't against that one bit.

“Let us apologize.”

They tell her, and it is not entirely fair with Napoleon slipping a hand between her legs, the rough calloused pad of his trigger finger rubbing right against her clit just as she likes. And it is almost too much and not enough. There is a hitched breath as he sets a pace and then she is letting out a soft sound until he finally sinks two fingers into her like he promised since long before she even sauntered into the bathroom.

She nearly bites Illya’s mouth bloody with how good it feels.

Stars behind her eyes, her fingernails digging into the material of their suits.

Between them, they get her off, trading kisses with her at every turn. Her chest is still heaving when she tips her head back to rest against Napoleon’s shoulder. A sheen of sweat against her skin, a smile an arc across her lips. Dragging Illya forward until they are all sharing a single breath, she tells them this.

“Apology accepted, boys.”


End file.
